


to all those who were lost

by visixns



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I mean tbh this isn't really a fix-it I guess? or maybe it is idk, Idiots in Love, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Spoilers, True Love, but like it's not a bad thing, they're dead, yo I literally just want them to catch a break is that too much to ask for?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14639171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visixns/pseuds/visixns
Summary: To describe the feeling of her skin prickling to dust would be akin to explaining the warmth that spread through her skin as the sun shone gently on the Earth, sweet and gentle and soft. A contrast so vast that, to Wanda, didn’t quite make sense. Nonetheless, it didn’t hurt like she wanted it to.





	to all those who were lost

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a small fix-it of sorts that I wrote because I've already watched Infinity War TWICE and not gotten over the fact that Wanda, my sweet, sweet Wanda, was so devastated from her losses that she just accepted her death with a small twitch of her lips and a smile. I want her to be happy, so here's all a small series of all those who died in a paradise-like place (idk maybe one of the stones, whatever you want it to be, heaven, a planet, etc)

To describe the feeling of her skin prickling to dust would be akin to explaining the warmth that spread through her skin as the sun shone gently on the Earth, sweet and gentle and soft. A contrast so vast that, to Wanda, didn’t quite make sense. Nonetheless, it didn’t hurt like she wanted it to.

She wasn’t sure how long she kept her eyes closed. Unwilling to open them she shut them tighter, knowing the empty and cold world she’d have to face without the grey and cold body that only moments before lay on the unruly grass before her.

And yet the warm and fuzzy feeling wouldn’t dissipate, wouldn’t give way for the fire in her chest and eyes to spew their hatred and blood to the ground, wouldn’t let her tears stray down her cheeks. And so, to her dismay, she opened her eyes to a life devoid of kisses painted in red and gold, to the comfort under the vibranium streaked arm of her Vision. 

She did so slowly. It was bright, and brightness did little to lessen the pounding in her chest and she was scared. Scared and angry and lonely—she felt so lonely—and she decided she wouldn’t allow her eyes to adjust to the sunshine so soon after witnessing the gold of his Mind Stone shattering into a thousand pieces (just like her heart). 

But the scene that met her made her crease her eyebrows in the way that he adored so much, her lips quirking downward in utter confusion.

Under the gentle heat of the sun, green vines swung slowly in the refreshing breeze, so different from the harsh bite of the cold Wakandan wind that cut through her coat and into her bones. Stunning blue water glistened on a lake that sat besides beautiful houses with porches and swings, and in the distance, she heard the unmistakable cadence of laughter. 

“Why did you take so long to open your eyes?” A teasing voice called from behind her, and upon turning she saw Sam kneeling beside her trembling frame, a hand reaching to soothe her hair. “We were all waiting for you.”

“I, I’m,” she stuttered, her wild eyes searching for a ground with which to anchor her confusion. “What?”

“We were waiting for you,” he repeated, his voice smooth and silky. He wasn’t in his Falcon outfit, the wings traded for a pair of jeans and a sweater that looked softer than anything Wanda had ever seen. From behind him, she could just barely see a group clustered on the porch of house painted in the same shades of red and gold that burned behind her eyes with every remembrance of the “I love you’s” she’d exchanged with her Vizh. 

“Come,” he beckoned, and suddenly she was standing, unaware of how her body had even had the strength to lift her legs. 

“Wanda!” Welcomed another voice, and Sam chuckled warmly from beside her, his hand on her back and guiding her to the porch where everyone else was gathered and mingling. With further inspection from her tearing eyes, she identified the owner of the voice just as they jogged to her with arms outstretched, a glass of iced tea lodged comfortably in their hand.

“Clint?” she flustered, her arms trembling as she fell into his embrace. “Clint, what—“

He shushed her, combing through her hair and colors she didn’t know existed flashed before her eyes, colored her vision with a soothing kiss on her forehead. She cried still.

“Don’t you want to see your boyfriend?” He asked, voice tainted with both a paternal venom and amusement. 

She blinked for what seemed like forever to solidify the image before her, confirm it’s existence, make sure she wasn’t hallucinating from loss as she was so used to doing. Behind Clint stood Vision, her Vision, in all his glory, his cape missing and instead replaced by a grey jacket and an olive green shirt, his legs covered uncharacteristically with sweatpants. He seemed nervous, hands trembling even though he tried to hide them but she knew, she always knew because they were connected, because they were the sun and moon and everything in between and she was so happy she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe—

When his arms crushed her and wrapped her in the heaven she thought she’d lost forever she had to stifle the moan of relief that escaped her throat into his neck, her tears staining his jacket but it didn’t matter because he was here.

They were bother here (wherever “here” was).

“My love,” his deep, accented voice kissed her ears and she groaned, closed her eyes tighter, held him tighter, and stood unaware of the hoots and cheering of all those around her. 

“I thought I lost you,” Wanda’s voice shook so hard she was afraid it became undecipherable, but she didn’t care. “I thought I’d never hear your voice again—“

He didn’t let her finish with a swoop of his lips, soft, long fingers cupping her wet face in absolute and complete adoration.

“Hey kids, just because we’re dead doesn’t mean I approve of whatever this is,” Clint’s voice echoed dangerously in the background and Wanda laughed into the kiss, Vision resting his forehead on hers. Seeing the opportunity, Sam clapped the two on the back and told them they’d be waiting inside (don’t take too long, Clint called, dragged away by Sam).

In the quiet of paradise, she wound her hands around his waist and held her ears to his chest, relishing in the unmistakable bu bum bu bum of his beating heart. If this is what death meant, if this is what it was, then by all means she all but wished she’d accepted it earlier. 

“I love you too.” She said. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I was, I didn’t, I’m so sorry.”

Vision simply smiled and her heart tripped into her stomach. “What for, my love? My memory does not betray any incident that may require an apology.” 

She could only hold him harder.

“Wanda,” he whispered, his voice was musical and made the backs of her closed eyelids shiver in their wake. “There are several people inside who would wish to see you as well, and I do not think it wise to keep them waiting.”

She would’ve argued, would’ve taken his hands and kissed them and washed them in her tears until she didn’t have any left, but a flash of blue and white caught her breath and Vision turned to the side, a wide, toothy smile on his face as Pietro leaned on the porch door. 

“You just had to date a microwave, didn’t you?”

With the love of her life lodged tightly at her side and the flowery teasing of her brother echoing through the air, she finally felt that all those tears on Earth had been well spent, if it meant she’d live this paradise. 

Vision looked at her with all the love of the cosmos, and it suddenly didn’t matter where they were or how they got there. 

“Shall we?”


End file.
